


Mission Success with an Unexpected Side Effect

by unprofessional_queer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra Keith (Voltron), Good Lotor (Voltron), Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith gets hurt, Keith is a kit, Kit Keith, lotor does care, lotor helps keith, lotor protects keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unprofessional_queer/pseuds/unprofessional_queer
Summary: While on a mission, Keith gets captured and taken to a prisoner ship. He gets thrown in a cell with Lotor and learns something new about himself, leading Lotor to decide he must mentor the youngling.
Relationships: Antok & Keith (Voltron), Keith & Lotor (Voltron)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 270





	1. Mission Complete?

He was supposed to draw the guards away from the left wing of the ship, and he definitely had their attention. Antok was in the currently uninhabited left wing of the ship gathering quintessence and Galran plans for the BoM. The resources and intel he would collect would be a tremendous help to the Blades in the fight against Zarkon, and Keith knew this. He just didn’t understand why it had to be him that was the decoy.

The youngest Blade cursed as he dodged the blasts from the sentries. He had been going at it for nearly a varga and his stamina was quickly wearing down, he just hoped that Antok would finish soon. The Blade and the Guards were on their fifth round of chase when his helmet when his helmet lit up with Antok’s name.

“Are you done yet? Please tell me you got everything.” Keith panted out as he very narrowly dodged a blast

“I’ve almost gotten everything we need. Are you alright? You’ve managed to successfully keep everyone busy and out of my way.” Antok said with an audible smirk in his voice, knowing he got the easy job for this mission

“Oh great, just dandy. I love getting shot at by-“ The Blade cursed as a Galran guard lunged at him, barley jumping out of the way in time to not get grabbed. He didn’t finish his sentence, fully concentrating on putting distance between himself and the guard.

“Keith? KEITH CAN YOU HEAR ME?!” Antok shouted in panic, thinking something had happened to the newest recruit

“I, I’m fine. Just hurry. I don’t know how long I can keep them busy.” Keith huffed out, the exhaustion clear in his voice

“Alright, I am just finishing up here. I should be finished very shortly, stay vigilant.” Antok replied curtly, hiding his concern for the small Blade

“Antok. I’m serious, ple- SHIT” The young Blade’s words getting cut short as he takes a blast to the leg from one of the Galran guards that joined in the chase. A string of curses left his lips as his left knee gave out and he rammed into a wall. The last words he heard from his mission partner before the impact cut his comms were of Antok shouting his name followed by an apology. After slamming into a wall and getting shot, Keith wasn’t able to put up much of a fight. The teen struggled weakly as two large sets of hands grabbed him. When Keith’s head cleared, he recognized Sendak’s voice.

“This must be a new Blade. They are so troublesome, and for what? Every last one of them knows they can’t win. Even if they could somehow build up their numbers of fighters, we still outnumber them ten to one. If this-“ Sendak emphasizes his statement by roughly kicking Keith in the ribs, only producing a pained groan “is all they have to offer, then beating them will be less of a challenge than I originally thought.” One of Sendak’s subordinates meekly asks the commanding officer what he should do with the tiny Blade. “Transfer him to Zarkon’s prisoner transport ship. The boss doesn’t have one of these yet, he will be very pleased. Make sure that the Blade really is out before you move him, or he will give you hell when he comes to.” Before Keith could begin to question what that meant, he heard a sharp “Yes Sir” before the butt end of a blaster cracked against the back of his head.


	2. At the Prison

Lotor was curious. He had recently been hearing a rumor that he was getting a cell mate. The prison guards never gave him direct answers as to who he was going to be forced to share a room with, though he thought that had more to do with the fact that they weren’t really sure either. For security purposes, all anyone at the max security prison had been told was that it was something Zarkon didn’t have yet. Lotor hated how the guards talked about the other prisoners. Everyone but Lotor was regarded with little more respect than a pet yupper. No guards on this ship treated him poorly, keeping their respect for their temporary leader, which he honestly hadn’t been expecting.

So, to say he was a little shocked when his cell door opened and a guard threw a tiny, unconscious Blade in, was definitely an understatement. The prince stared at the little Blade for a few minutes, fully expecting it to spring to life and start throwing punches. He was a little thrown off when the rebel just continued to lay limp on the cold metal floor. Lotor honestly would’ve thought the person under the mask was dead, if not for the shallow breathes coming from its tiny form.

Lotor finally decided he was done just watching the unknown figure and called out to it, hoping to wake it. “Hello? Are you injured?” The galra didn’t respond to him, but he hadn’t really been expecting an answer. He cautiously approached the little Blade, slowly, as to not scare them if they woke up. He wasn’t totally heartless, at least not towards anyone in the Galran race. He crouched down in front of the mystery figure and very carefully clicked the button on the side of their neck, deactivating their mask.

Lotor was definitely not expecting to shed the mask and see the red paladin’s face. Black paladin? Former paladin? Never mind that, he thought as he took another look at the little Blade. He was far more concerned with the injuries that he saw now that he was really looking. The most obvious wound he saw was, the back of his head appeared to have a big gash. He figured it was an injury obtained from his capture. The Galra just hoped that he didn’t crack his skull open. The only other wound he could find somehow made him cringe more. With the position the little Blade fell in, he could just barley see the edges of a bad burn. Of course, with his extensive Galra lineage, he could already smell the charred skin and fabric. He had just been hoping it was someone else’s burnt flesh he smelt on the little Galra.

To really get a grasp on how bad the leg was, Lotor had to move him. He didn’t want to, knowing the movement would probably wake up the Blade, /Keith?/ Lotor sucked in a breathe as he very carefully grabbed the tiny Galra my his shoulders and rolled him onto his front. His fears were confirmed when he heard the Blade groan in pain, clearly coming back to himself. Lotor was hoping that he would just pass out again and make both of their lives easier. The longer he silently sat there waiting for the little Blade to go back under, the faster realized that he was wasting crucial time in helping patch him up. He had no idea how long the smaller Galra had been bleeding, and he was growing more concerned. He decided he couldn’t wait any longer for the other to wake up, and settled on just talking him through what he was doing.


	3. He's a Kit?!

“Keith, its Lotor. I do not wish to hurt you; I am merely concerned. I need to get you out of your armor to help your head and leg.” He waited a tick and after not receiving a definite no, went to gently touch the area surrounding the wound on his leg. It was as he somehow raised the dead. Keith shot up and let out a loud whine of pain. At hearing the whine, Lotor let out a surprised gasp. Lotor knew the sound that came out of Keith was one that only Galra kits made, and they were few and far between since the war. He couldn’t believe his ears. Apparently, Keith couldn’t either because he immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, desperately trying to keep similar whines from leaving his lips. He immediately tried to scoot away from the larger Galra, obviously scared from waking up hurt, in a strange place, and making weird sounds.

Lotor instinctively moved forward to comfort the newfound kit, not thinking about what Keith would think of his actions. He realized a moment too late that moving towards the scared kit was definitely not he right move, as Keith cowered back and tried to push himself further back, father into the wall. The little Blade choked on sobs. Lotor didn’t know what to make of the situation. Firstly, he had no idea how he never figured out that Keith was a kit. He knew he was considered an adult by human standards, but how old _was_ he? There was no way the BoM knew. Kits were sacred, no Galra would ever harm one, and a kit would never be allowed to fight in a war. Thinking about this got Lotor very angry. How in the universe his pack didn’t know he was a kit was beyond him. It was down right outrageous. And on top of everything, Keith seemed to not have a clue as to what was going on.

The Blade seemed to be oblivious to the fact that he was still letting out very kit-like whimpers and whines, still just trembling in the corner. Lotor couldn’t stand it. It had been a very long time since he had met a kit, and even longer since he himself had been a kit, but he couldn’t let him continue to panic. Lotor tried to remember all his father had taught him about caring for a kit. He might have a very rough exterior, but Zarkon deeply cared for the young Galras.

After a particularly loud whine, Lotor lowly growled at the kit. The response was instantaneous, Keith immediately let out a little warbley chirp. This was a very good sign, well not great, the sound the Blade let out was that of a very stressed and injured kit, but it was good that Keith’s kit instincts took over enough to respond. Lotor just had to hope that the kit would react in the manner a full-blooded Galra kit would. Lotor slowly approached the trembling kit, trying to exude calm energy. The kit flinched when Lotor finally touched him, and did something Lotor didn’t expect. When The older Galra sat beside the frightened kit, Keith wrapped is arms around his neck and tried to crawl in his lap. Things were going much better than Lotor could’ve wished for, Keith was definitely letting his kit instincts guide him right now.


	4. In true Kit Fashion

When the kit let out pained whines trying to climb onto Lotor’s lap, the Galra shushed him and very gently pulled him onto his lap. Lotor did his best to not jostle the kit’s injured leg in his attempt to comfort him, and his efforts were rewarded by Keith stuffing his face under his chin. After getting situated, the kit’s frantic tears slowed to a stop. Lotor took a risk and moved his left hand off of the kit’s back and onto the nape of his neck, squeezing and massaging lightly. Responding in true kit fashion, Keith fell limp against Lotor and let out a continuous string of very adorable purrs. 

Lotor decided to break the peaceful silence when the kit was starting to doze off. “Kit, you can’t sleep right now. We have to get you bandaged up and fed first.” The older Galra’s resolve was tested when Keith decided to latch on to his shirt and snuggle in closer. Lotor found it quite funny, the normally stoic and uptight Blade was clinging to him like one of those fluffy Earth animals that lived in the trees. He knew he had to help the young kit as much as he could now, because it would probably be rather difficult to get the kit to accept his assistance later. With that thought, the general very slowly stood. He made sure to wrap an arm around his back and under his bum so he wouldn’t fall. The poor kit was unable to wrap his legs around the older Galra’s torso like a typical kit would with his leg injured.


	5. Come Now, Little One

“Come now little one. We gotta get you feeling better, yeah? How about we go get a bandage and some medicine for your leg, and get some food in you?” Lotor asked the Blade, already having a suspicion as to what Keith would answer. Apparently, the paladin was on board with the other Galra’s idea, because all Lotor got in conformation was a jerky little nod.

Lotor made sure not to bounce his precious cargo as he walked to the door and rapped his knuckles against the cold metal. A moment later; a fluffy, Kolivan sized Galra opened the door. “Pardon me guard, I need to get to the kitchen and the med bay. If you would excuse me.” The former general told the guard while trying to be as vague as possible, like carrying a paladin of Voltron like a child was an everyday occurrence.

The large guard hesitantly blocked the hallway when the prisoner tried to pass him. “Sir did that Blade injure you? You don’t have to take him to a different cell, I would be more than happy to assist you.”

“No Drax, I am not hurt. The kit got shot and needs medical attention. I am unsure when was the last time he’s had a proper meal, and he is in pain. That should be more than enough information, so if you would kindly excuse me.” Lotor replied forcefully, now more than a bit irritated.

As he started down the hall for a second time, the larger Galra did something very unexpected. The guard decided to jump out in front of the pair and tried to rip Keith from Lotor’s arms. The Galra immediately tightened his grip on Keith and jumped backwards, baring his fangs in preparation for a fight. The harsh squeezing and leap made the injured kit let out a whimper of pain. Lotor’s fangs instantly retracted as he started purring and rubbing little circles into the kit’s back.


	6. How Dare You Hurt the Child

Between hearing the Blade whimper and seeing his superior’s reaction, the guard quickly realized that Lotor’s little bundle was in fact a kit.

Drax slowly raised his hands, palms up, and backed away. The older Galra bowed his head in submission and let out a high whine of apology, desperately trying to not be seen as a threat. The guard knew that if Lotor saw him as a danger to his kit, there would be a very bloody fight. It was common knowledge that Galra were extremely protective of pack members, especially younglings. (He also knew that with the emperor’s superior fighting skills that he would definitely lose.)

The prisoner checked over his kit (well, he considered Keith his kit already) and decided that he hadn’t sustained anymore injuries. The Galra leaned down and nosed his kit’s cheek, earning him a happy little chirp in response.


	7. No Blood Was Shed

The guard attempted to back further down the hall to get away from the pair. The blade aimed to scooch his way to an empty cell and hide behind the safety of the metal door. He didn’t get far though until his armor made a loud clanking sound and ruined his stealthy retreat, effectively ending his escape attempt. 

Lotor’s head shot up, once again becoming aware of the threat present in the room. His eyes narrowed to slits and his razor-sharp fangs were barred. The emperor searched the empty hall, looking for a way to quickly leave. While knowing he could best the other in a fight if the time came, the galra didn’t want to have an altercation. He simply wanted to get his kit medicated and fed, and was willing to do whatever necessary to accomplish that.

Realizing that the taller galra wasn’t looking to maim him, the guard figured that he needed to look nonthreatening. He slowly lowered himself to the floor, careful not to make any jerky movements. The lesser galra laid down on his stomach and rested his forehead on the cold metal floor, hands flat on the ground next to his head.

The large galra examined the other, narrowing his eyes. After a few tense moments, Lotor decided that the other was no longer a danger to his little bundle. With one final huff, the general started walking down the hall again. He quickly forgot about the other, attention snapping to his still-injured kit in his arms. 


	8. To Help his Kit

Keith locked eyes with Lotor and let out a happy rumble, glad to have the elder’s attention again. Lotor returned the rumble and nosed the top of the kit’s head, scenting him. The older Galra recoiled at the smell of sickness that was starting to come off of the kit in his arms. Remembering what he was originally doing, Lotor scanned the hall once more before he started off in the direction of the medbay.

Keith whimpered in pain at the motion, the movement jostling his leg.

“Shh kit, I know. It’ll be okay.” Lotor tried to soothe the younger. “I’m sorry young one. I know it hurts.” The prisoner looked around the corridors for a moment before he found the hall he wanted.

“H- hurts.” Keith let out in a high-pitched whine, gripping on to Lotor’s back harder. The older only shushed him again as he slowed down to enter the Medical Wing of the ship.

Lotor walked over to one of the metal examination tables and placed Keith down as gently as possible. “I need to get you out of these little one.” The larger said as he started helping Keith carefully shimmy out of his suit pants. Lotor winced as he revealed the charred skin right above Keith’s knee. He turned to go get the what he needed for the kit’s leg: gauze, medical tape, and antibiotics.

“This is probably going to hurt a bit and I am very sorry kit, but I have to.” Lotor warned as he squeezed some of the cream on to his hands. He applied the solution on the outer edges of the burn, trying to be as gentle as possible. Keith let out a continuous string of whimpers and whines, in obvious pain. “I am so sorry young one we’re almost done. I won’t touch it again today after I finish.” Lotor grabbed the gauze and applied quite a bit of the cream to it. The galra carefully pressed the gauze to Keith’s leg, letting out soothing rumbles as he did. He reached over and grabbed the medical tape, securing the gauze to the wound.

“Let’s get something in your belly yeah? We’re done with your leg today kit.” The older said as he picked Keith back up, tucking him into his side.


	9. Leaving the Medbay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vgxtrtctycuviyhbtxdsdstxfg- im sorry this is super short and not good, but im trying to get a feel for my writing style again after being gone for so long

Lotor reached over the table he had previously set the kit on and grabbed a blanket to cover him with. With his injured leg, there was no way the constricting suit pants were going on and Lotor didn’t want the kit to get cold so this was the next best option. Keith wrapped his slim arms around Lotor’s neck and rested his head on the taller’s shoulder.

“Comfortable, young one?” Lotor chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the kit-like innocence. Keith just hummed in acknowledgement, not really paying attention to what Lotor was saying, much more invested in where they were going.

The two walked in comfortable silence to the cafeteria. Since it they were in the “Less Restricted” sector of the prison, there weren’t any guards just wandering the halls. The only time the guards walked the halls of the “Less Restricted” sector was if there was a missing prisoner or if the guards were changing out, so the pair didn’t get stopped in the hallway.

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely going to be a multi chapter fic. I am going to be writing tons more kit Keith w/ Dads of Marmora stuff. If you have any ideas or prompts, let me know. Comments and kudos are much appreciated. Thanks for reading! <3


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